


Own Interest

by priama



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Rachel Dawes Lives, Retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priama/pseuds/priama
Summary: He holds no love for Rachel Dawes, yet he breaks a rib for her.(Retelling ofAssistancefrom Jonathan Crane's POV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Own Interest

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Assistance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981405) by [priama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/priama/pseuds/priama). 



_“No! No! Not me! Why are you coming for me?”_

District Attorney Dent’s voice heaves through the speaker and Jonathan Crane is forced to shove Miss Dawes forward before she decides to be sentimental. The warehouse’s backdoor is just a few feet away; she can waste her time _after_ they exit the building.

_“Rachel! Rachel! No!”_

She pauses for too long a second and calls out for the man on the other side. _This won’t do._

“Move.” Crane orders her, tone hissing and impatient.

She complies but Crane does not fail to notice how her legs tremble and how her breathing comes out ragged.

Six seconds.

They’re outside and despite the relief he notices in her eyes when the night breeze cools her face (he himself is sweating under the burlap), she looks like she’s about to collapse. He could leave her there. It’s not his business. To hell with her if she gets caught in the soon to be explosion…

Four seconds.

His fingers wrap tightly around her forearm as he drags her even further from the building. This is the first time he’s touched her, he believes. _I hope you bruise._

Even behind the mask, he hears the distant approach of police sirens. _Gotham’s finest, timely as always-_

Crane’s feet leave the ground and his fingers untangle from Rachel Dawes’ forearm when the building behind them explodes. He falls face first and hears a crack somewhere in his body which robs him of his breath. Glass flies everywhere and flames lick the night skies as he manages to push himself on his back, trying to breathe. The heat under the burlap becomes unbearable, so he rips off the mask off his face only to inhale a cloud of smoke, causing him to break into a violent coughing fit. Miss Dawes coughs next to him as she curls into herself. Half of him wants to tell her that she should straighten instead if she hopes to breathe and half of him is too busy dealing with his own lack of air.

Minutes pass at an irritating low pace and the wailing of more sirens reach his ringing ears. The fire department finally decides to show their faces, it seems. He lies there next to her and observes how the smoke and flames slowly die down.

He hears shifting at his side and his eyes follow Rachel Dawes as she staggers to her feet, holding her sides. Her hair is in disarray and her face and arms are stained with soot and sweat. She looks down at him and all he can do is clench his jaw. It irks him that he is still on the floor when he was the one who saved her.

“Thank you.” She rasps. She’s inhaled too much smoke, Crane notices. She’ll be sick tomorrow and would probably have to sit out whatever endeavors she plans to partake on. He lets out an amused chuckle.

“How expectedly unexpected, Miss Dawes.” Putting her guard down around him doesn’t suit her and whenever he is within her proximity, he cannot help but jump at the opportunity to argue. “I thought you’d berate me for being out of prison or inquire as to why I decided to get you out of that situation.”

It’s very childish but she frowns and he bites back a triumphant grin when she takes the bait. _That’s more like it._

“If you wanted to tell me you would have done so already.”

He stares at her. He knows very well that him doing so makes her uneasy, or at least, annoyed. But she stares him down too, waiting for an answer and Crane runs his tongue across his teeth while he gathers a response. He smiles a false grin.

Deciding he won’t let her have the last word nor the upper ground, he pushes himself into a sitting position. When he runs his hand through his matted hair, a sharp jolt runs through his torso and he draws in a sharp breath, wincing. _A broken rib._

No. It won’t do for him to look weak in front of her. It’s enough that she is still standing and looking down at him.

“I’ve been wandering the streets, trying to analyze clown who’s been terrorizing this city.” It’s not a lie. The exploits of this new maniac have not escaped him. They might seem random and chaotic but it all madness there’s a method. “Quite the character, I might add.”

“So you found me by accident, is that it?”

Her reply comes out as a surprise to him. Her tone is miffed and by now she’s crossed her arms.

“Partly, yes.” He half lies. It was no accident; Crane deduced Miss Dawes would make it to the clown’s hit list. The only question was _when._ If the clown was two steps ahead of the Bat-man, Crane was two steps ahead of him. “I saw people bringing an unconscious person here.”

Crane reaches out for the mask on his side and pushes himself to his feet. The throbbing from his broken rib traverses across the rest of his body and he draws in a sharp breath through his nose, swallowing down any other indicator that might betray just how in pain he truly is in. Once he gathers his bearings, he turns his gaze on her. There is a hint of worry in her eyes. He does not like that.

“Never would have imagined that person to be _you_.”

Miss Dawes clenches her jaw at his words and he bites the inside of his cheek as to not grin. The annoyance, the irritation towards him fits her much better. _I prefer you this way._

“Why?” she asks.

“I thought you’d be in your office or perhaps investigating this-”

“No.” she interrupts him. _Oh?_ He turns to look at her. “I mean, why even bother getting me out of there? We both know you can’t stand me.”

He chuckles and offers her half a smile which seems to irk her even more.

He stares at her, unblinking. He should have known better that she would notice something was going on. Rachel Dawes, though an idealist, was no idiot. It was true. He held no love for her. At least, not the type of love regular men and women understood. But there was… a _craving_ of sorts, for lack of a better term. He had all the right and power to leave her tied to the chair, whimpering until the flames consumed her. One less annoyance for him. Instead he undid her bindings, shoved her out of the building and dragged her away when her legs threatened to give in. He holds no love for Rachel Dawes, yet he breaks a rib for her.

 _Why bother getting you out? I’m trying to figure that myself._ Maybe it was the amusement to play with her head by doing something she did not expect from him. Maybe it was because she, though unwittingly, had saved him as well months ago from his own fear toxin. Paying back a debt she was unaware of also contributed to confusing her and Crane took delight in that; the unknown and unexpected are the seeds of fear. It was not an instant shock, but an initiation in paranoia. Fear and anger suit her well, in his modest opinion.

…Maybe it was because the clown meddling with her irked him to no end. It was the Bat-man this new terrorist wanted; that was all well and good. But Rachel Dawes was off limits. Her anger and terror belonged to- _No._ He swallows hard. _I am not certain of that yet._

“I haven’t forgotten the high voltage blow to the face you inflicted upon me, Miss Dawes.” He offers.

Her brows knit into a scowl and looks about to unleash her fury on him so he silences her before she can.

“Somehow, the shock reset my cognitive abilities and released me of my own toxin’s effects. So consider what I did as payment for your assistance.”

She stares at him, astonished. It was true. He almost lost his mind to his fear toxin. But lo and behold, brilliant Assistant Attorney Rachel Dawes electrocutes him in an act of self-defense and ends up bringing him back from the abyss. He almost laughs at the irony.

He hears voices talking so he slips the burlap mask back on.

“Best get out of here Miss Dawes, before Gotham’s finest think you’re dead.”

“What about you?”

He scoffs. _Is it worry or suspicion that makes you ask, I wonder._ He’ll figure it out later. “Oh, I’m leaving as well, just not where you go. Wouldn’t want to bother the police and the Bat-man with my presence while they have their hands full with this renegade clown, now would I?”

Miss Dawes shifts her weight where she stands, arms clasped at her shoulders. “He calls himself the Joker.”

Crane scoffs. “Of course he does. Such is the bloated ego of masked maniacs in this city.”

He limps away, trying not to disturb his torso as he moves. Rachel Dawes does not follow and instead, she drags herself to the opposite side of the building.

-

The police cars rush and wail away from the ruined warehouse, Miss Dawes inside the patrol with Lieutenant Gordon. Crane shoots one last look past his shoulder before he makes his way back to his hiding den. He’ll need to tend to his broken rib soon.

Did she tell the police about him? Very unlikely. She’ll think of this a kindness and would let it pass… He chuckles. _No. Miss Dawes is not that sort of person._ Just as Crane nurses grudges, she too keeps a tally of injustices in her mind that would prompt her to correct them sooner or later. He had been at the receiving end of such corrections, once outside the courtroom, once outside Falcone’s cell and once when she electrocuted (and saved) him all those months ago. He will see her again, undoubtedly.

A grin spreads across his face. “Until next time, Miss Dawes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to do a retelling of the previous fic I did about them but from Crane's POV to look at the situation from his side + also wanted to explore and put my own delusions into words. I suggest you read the first one but you can do whatever you want.


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